fountains of pleasure, which the finner never tastes of, which he cannot relish, which he is a stranger to: Next, As to outward things, that he has even here, many advantages above the other. But what is more confiderable yet, is, All the claim the finner lays to pleasure, is confined to the present moment, which is extremely short, and extremely uncertain; the time that is past and to come, he quits all pretenfions to, or ought to do so. As to the time past, the thing is felf-evident: for the finner, looking back, fees his pleasures and fatisfactions; the good man his trials and temptations past and gone: the finner sees an end of his beauty and his strength; the good man of his weaknesses and follies: the one when he looks back is encountered with fin and folly, wickedness and shame; the other with repentance and good works : guilt and fear haunt the reflections of the one, peace and hope attend those of the other. As to the time to come, the atheist hath no profpect at all beyond the grave, the wicked Christian a very dismal one, the weak and imperfect a doubtful one; only the wife and perfect an assured, joyful, and delightful one. And this puts me in mind of that which is the proper fruit of Perfection, and the trueft and greatest pleasure of human life, that is, afsurance, assurance of the the pardon of fin, afsurance of the divine favour, afsurance of immortality and glory. Need I prove, that affurance is an unspeakable pleasure? One would think, that to man, who is daily engaged in a conflict with some evil or other, it were fuperfluous to prove that it is a mighty pleasure to be raised, tho' not above the affault, tho not above the reach, yet above the venom and malignity of evils: to be filled with joy, and strength, and confidence; to ride triumphant under the protection of the divine favour, and fee the fea of life, swell and toss itself in vain, in vain threaten the bark it cannot fink, in vain invade the cable it cannot burst. One would think, that to man, who lives all his life long in bondage for fear of death, it should be a furprizing delight to fee death lie gasping at his feet, naked and impotent, without fting, without terror: one would, finally, think, that to man, who lives rather by hope than enjoyment, it should not be neceffary to prove, that the Chriftian's hope, whose confidence is greater, its objects more glorious, and its success more certain than that of any worldly fancy or project, is full of pleafure; and that it is a delightful prospect to fee the heavens opened, and Jefus, our Fefus, our Prince and Saviour, fitting at the right hand of God. Thus I have, I think, sufficiently made out the subserviency of Perfection to the happiness of this present life, which was the thing proposed to be done in this chapter. Nor can I imagine what objections can be sprung to invalidate what I have said; unless there be any thing of colour in these two. 1. To reap the pleasure, will fome one say, which you have described here, it re quires fomething of an exalted genius, some compass of understanding, some fagacity and penetration. To this I answer, I grant indeed that fome of those pleasures which I have reckoned up as belonging to the perfect man, demand a spirit raised a little above the vulgar: but the richest pleasures, not the most polished and elevated spirits, but the most devout and charitable fouls are beft capable of. Such are the peace and tranquillity which arises from the conquest and reduction of all inordinate affections: the fatisfaction which accompanies a fincere and vigorous discharge of duty, and our reflections upon it; the security and reft which flows from felf-refignation, and confidence in the divine protection: and tastly, the joy that springs from the full afsurance of hope. But 2dly, It may be objected, 'tis true all these things seem to hang together well enough in speculation; but when we come to 1 to examine the matter of fact, we are almost tempted to think, that all which you have said to prove the ways of wisdom, ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace, amounts to no more than a pretty amusement of the mind, and a vifionary scheme of happiness. For how few are there, if any, who feel all this to be truth, and experiment the pleasure you talk of? How few are they in whom we can discover any figns of this spiritual joy, or fruits of a divine tranquillity or fecurity? I answer, in a word, the examples of a perfect and mature virtue are very few; religion runs very low, and the love of God and goodness in the bofoms of most Christians suffers such an allay and mixture, that it is no wonder at all, if so imperfect a state breed but very weak and imperfect hopes, very faint and doubtful joys. But I shall have occafion to examine the force of this objection more fully, when I come to the obstacles of Perfection. 1 CHAP. CHAP. V. Of the attainment of Perfection: with a particular account of the manner, or the feveral steps, by which man advances or grows up to it: with three remarks to make this discourse more useful, and to free it from fome fcruples. I Have in the first, fecond, and third chapters explained the notion of Religious Perfection. In the fourth chapter I have insisted on two effects of it, assurance and pleafure: my method therefore now leads me to the attainment of Perfection. Here I will do two things. 1st, I will trace out the several steps and advances of the Christian towards it, and draw up, as it were, a short hiftory of his spiritual progress, from the very intancy of virtue to its maturity and manhood. 2dly, I will discourse briefly of the motives and means of Perfection. Of the Christian's progress towards Perfection. Many are the figures and metaphors by which the scripture describes this; alluding one while to the formation, nourishment, and growth of the natural man; another while to that of plants and vegetables: one |